


Definitions

by Clones_and_gallifrey



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kind of AU, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 01:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clones_and_gallifrey/pseuds/Clones_and_gallifrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the ordinary days that define us. Five seeminly ordinary days which shape Jake and Amy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Definitions

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo :) this is my submission for the BMFW challenge; which if you didn't know is a tumblr challenge for people who don't usually write fanfiction. So this is my first b99 fic, and the first fic I have written for a really really long time, so I don't know if it is any good but I hope you enjoy it anyway :).
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at clonesandgallifrey :).

1.  
There is a knock at the door at three a.m. It's not like she could sleep anyway. It had been a long Friday for Amy Santiago. One of those long and angry days where one thing after another goes wrong. Where the highlight of the day is the collapse into bed at the end, the sweet release of sleep, the promise of the fresh slate of tomorrow. But sleep didn't come. It wasn't work that was playing on her mind, because yes, it had been a bit awful (how did she lose those files?), but it didn't compare to the... Conversation she had had with Teddy afterwards. The one where he picked her up from work and took her to the cutest cafe she knew, and ordered her three different types of cupcake. On cupcake number two (fudge sundae with a cherry on top) he had reached for her hand across the polished wood table and asked her if she wanted to marry him. It had not been a formal proposal. There was no getting down on one knee, no ring, no soppy speech. Just two words. Apparently that was his idea of casual conversation now. 

Marry me. She replayed them in her head as she stared at the ceiling in the dark. Huh? Had been her reply. Teddy had laughed, not now, he said, I just wanted to know if you would.

The cupcake turned to sludge in her mouth. She said yes. She had to remind herself that nothing was official yet. 

How many kids do you want? He asked on cupcake number three. It was red velvet. It tasted sickly sweet in her memory. 

There is a knock at the door at the door at three a.m. Amy's not scared to answer it like some people would be. She's a cop, and she's not scared of a whole lot. Her feet lift her from the clean sheets and take her to the front door. She's wearing pyjamas, and rubs her arms to create some kind of friction as protection from the November cold. When she opens the door however, she goes cold all over. Icy cold and numb. In the back of her mind she knows it wouldn't matter if it were the middle of July. Moments like this were made for freezing. 

"Jake." Amy's jaw drops, her hands stiff at her sides, her mind working at overdrive yet still too slow to form words and to structure them into a sentence. It's been seven months. He's been undercover, and the only thing she's known for sure throughout those months is that he's alive. And she's been trying her best not to think about him, or that stupid confession. She's shoved her feelings into a cupboard and locked it up, labelled it with a 'do not open' sticker. But sticker be damned, he's back. 

"Hey." Is all he says. And she takes him in. His hair is a little longer, a little messier. He is a little thinner, his smile a little forced. His eyes are tired. She swallows, he shoves his hands into his pockets. 

"What are you doing here?" She asks, regretting the words as soon as they leave her mouth. She doesn't mean to sound rude, doesn't mean to sound like she doesn't want him there. Because damn it, she can't control her feelings, as much as she would like. 

"Mission's over. I did a great job, obviously," Amy smiles at him. She's missed his jokes. He is tired and dishevelled, but he's still trying to make her smile. "I finished yesterday. And I uh, couldn't sleep." Jake moves his eyes around the hallway, looking anywhere but at her, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "I guess I just need a friend." 

"Come in." She steps aside, and he doesn't hesitate. 

When the sun comes up they are sitting at opposite ends of her couch; book ends. He doesn't want to talk about being undercover, so she fills the silence with details from the life He should have been living. She tells him about how Boyle's basement dwelling flooded and he spent two weeks couch surfing, sleeping anywhere he could. He spent two nights at Amy's, but a series of events, culminating in him spilling a container of his strange Ethiopian food on her new couch throw, resulted in her kicking him out. After that he spent five nights at Gina's, much to everyone's confusion.  
When they grow tired, and Amy runs out of things to say to make Jake smile, they switch on an early morning news show and sit together, shrouded in a comfortable kind of peace. Jake squeezes her arm with a whisper of thanks, and they both know that everything will be ok. 

2.  
Amy had to break up with Teddy. He was a good guy, and she could have been happy with him. Only not really. Not the kind of happy she craved. Not the kind that she felt on midnight stakeouts with Jake whilst they laughed away the boredom of inanimate surveillance. She chose to do it at the start of February, because he was talking about how special valentines was going to be. She borrowed his laptop one day and found he had bookmarked six fancy restaurants, and she suddenly couldn't do that to him anymore. She couldn't do it to herself either. She had an inkling that the official proposal was coming soon.

Thing was, it would be way too easy to say yes. To have a June wedding with their families and friends, to honeymoon in some exotic yet bland couples resort, to buy a picket-fence-house in the suburbs, to have 2.5 kids and a dog and join a wine tasting club and ugh ugh ugh. She could picture herself waking up in 25 years time to teenage children who resented her and a husband who played golf every weekend. Maybe she would make captain, but what would be the point of her dream job if there was no one to celebrate it with, nothing much to go home to?

She had arranged to go over to his apartment one Wednesday after work, and promptly spent the whole day before the break up dreading it. Break ups sucked. She had no idea how he would react. Mostly she just didn't want to break his heart. 

"What's up with you? Did the captain yell at you again?" Jake asked, a smile in his voice as he approached her desk, where she was sitting with her head in her arms.  
"No," she groaned.  
"Want some of my breakfast burrito?" He asked, sitting down.  
"Ew no, I don't need more cavities." Amy raised her head from the desk to wrinkle her nose at Jake. "I'm trying to figure out how to do something. It's hard, and I don't know how to deal with it."  
Jake snorted, "title of your sex tape!"  
"Shut up," Amy threw a pen at his head and smiled when it hit him between the eyes.  
"Ow! Santiago, I'm offended, I thought you cared about me!"  
"You wish." She replied, but the smile on her face said otherwise. Jake met her eyes and smiled back. This kind of thing had been happening far too often recently, and was just another reason on the long list of why Amy was breaking up with teddy. Not that she would admit that to anyone.  
"So what's really up?" He asked, throwing the pen back. She caught it.  
"I-" Amy didn't know whether she should tell him. But he would find out eventually anyway, right? "I'm breaking up with Teddy today."  
Jake didn't even try to hide the smirk that time. 

 

3.  
"What's their deal anyway?" Rosa asked, looking across the bar at Jake and Amy, where they were ordering drinks and standing far too close.  
Amy was giggling. Giggling for God's sakes. The sparks between them were ridiculous. They were enough to start a freaking forest fire, and Rosa was sick of the longing looks between them. And she was sure the team had heard enough ridiculous giggling in the past few months to last them a lifetime.  
"It's cute. They're like middle schoolers." Gina mused, taking a mouthful of her drink. Charles glanced at her sideways.  
"Give them a break, they've both been through difficult things recently," Terry chipped in. "Jake being undercover, Amy's break up."  
"I don't think her break up was difficult at all," Rosa shook her head, "we all know she ditched him to be with Jake, for reasons I fail to see, so she should act on it."  
"I agree with Gina, they're cute. They'll act on it when they're ready," Boyle shrugged. 

"Why are they staring at us?" Amy asked Jake as they waited for their drinks. It was Friday, and the team was unwinding after a busy week.  
"They're jealous of how cool we are." Jake told her. She smiled. Man, he loved that smile. Jake would walk around the world to see that smile.  
"Sure. Maybe they're planning on murdering us."  
"You could be right. It's creepy. I think we should go. For our safety, you understand," Jake said, his face completely serious. Amy tried to copy his expression, but the look in his eyes made her laugh again. She loved how much she laughed around him. Everything just felt easy.  
"Ok. After this drink," Amy agreed.  
"Sure," Jake leaned in so he was close to her ear, "just make sure the bartender doesn't poison it." The way that Jake's breath on her skin made goosebumps appear made her smile some more. She felt like a teenage girl, but she was enjoying the feeling while it lasted. It had been a long time since she felt that way. 

It was summer, and the sun still hadn't set by the time they left the bar. It was nearing nine p.m, and dark colours streaked the sky.  
"Want to get a cab to mine or something?" Jake asked as they left. It was kind of the norm for them to just hang out at each other's apartments now. It was nice to have a friend. Even if they did both want more than that.  
"Why don't we walk?" Amy suggested. The city was alive. On days like this she was reminded why she loved New York so much. She loved it even more in this moment, walking with Jake, their hands brushing against each other with every other step.  
"Sure."  
"It's still so warm," Amy observed.  
"It's nice," Jake nodded. He opened his mouth, wanting to say so much. That Goddam smile was back on her face; a permanent fixture in the evening sunshine. "How's Teddy these days?" He asked, starting small. Anything to open up the conversation about relationships. Just maybe, this time, he would have the guts to ask her. She knew how he felt, he had told her all those months ago when he went undercover. But her feelings were kind of a mystery.  
"I haven't spoken to him," Amy told Jake, who relished the feeling of victory.  
"Oh, I thought he might have tried to get back into contact with you or something."  
"Nah," Amy shook her head, "I think I hurt him bad," she frowned. Jake kicked himself for wiping that smile off of her face.  
"Well that doesn't surprise me. I mean, any guy would be heartbroken to lose you," Jake said, unable to meet her gaze. He hadn't meant to word it quite like that. But oh well.  
"What do you mean?" Amy asked, her eyes wide.  
"Uh... Just that..." Jake knew what he wanted to say really. He had a vast list of why Amy Santiago was the catch of the century. But he didn't want to freak her out. "You're just pretty cool," Jake shook his head at his wording, "I mean any guy would be lucky to have you. You're funny, and nice, and you're really pretty. I mean you even look cute with those dumb glasses on." His voice was low and quiet now.  
The silence dragged on for what felt like a very long time, and Jake didn't have the courage to look at her. But then her hand found his. Hers was small and warm and smooth, and their fingers slotted together perfectly. And then he could look at her again, and her smile was back. It lit a fire in his chest.  
"Thanks," Amy nodded, "I guess you're not so bad either, for a guy." She laughed, and he kicked her lightly. They returned to silence, but this time it was comfortable. Cars passed by, streetlights turned on, people continued with their daily lives, and Jake and Amy held hands.  
"Jake." Amy swallowed hard, knowing she needed to speak now. "You know the stuff you said to me, before you went undercover?" She looked over at him. He nodded slowly. "I wanted to ask you if... If you still meant it. If it still applied"  
"Uh..." Jake stalled, unsure what Amy wanted the answer to be. But they were holding hands, and it felt like the time for truth. "It still applies. But I don't feel exactly the same. I mean, it's more now. I wish something could happen more than ever. But I get that you just got out of a relationship a few months back. You probably don't even feel the same, or whatever. It's cool."  
Amy replies by kissing Jake right on the lips in the middle of the sidewalk in New York City. 

4.  
Christmas in New York was special. Sure, crime rates were up, and incidents involving the drunk and disorderly hit their annual high, but something about the city all lit up and peppermint-scented gave Amy hope, made her happy. She loved the festive displays of the department stores, the cheerful music which always seemed to be within earshot, and the seasonal drinks which felt like a warm hug. The same couldn't be said for Jake. Christmas came with too many bad memories, just like Thanksgiving. Generally he found the displays too much and the music became annoying after a while. But the drinks could stay. With Amy though, things were different. Ever since the Thanksgiving talk with Captain Holt about making his own family, things had improved. True, he had his precinct family, and he appreciated them to no end, but Amy was like a real family; or at least the beginnings of one. She started her Christmas shopping mid-October,which meant that he did too, but strangely he found himself enjoying it, despite the strange way she carried out Christmas shopping. She liked to do it in tiers, buying the presents over a two month period to spread the costs, and she had a strict schedule to adhere to with regards to what to buy when. Christmas Amy was a little scary, but he loved her, and he found her Christmas dictatorship amusing this time around. This fact scared him a little. It cemented in his mind the knowledge that he wanted to be with Amy forever, and he needed to make that happen. So, on their first Christmas together as a couple, he bought a silver engagement ring and added some more weight to his crushing debt. 

The ring burns a hole in his pocket for two weeks before he decides that enough is enough, he can't live another day without being engaged to Amy Santiago. The thought of calling her his fiancé makes him smile at himself in the bathroom mirror. Unfortunately, Jake picks gift-wrap day to ask her. 

"Jake. Wake up. It's eight." He is awoken way too early by the hissing voice of his girlfriend.  
"It's Saturday," Jake slurs, half asleep.  
"It's gift wrap Saturday! Do not tell me you forgot," she prods him in the side. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was gift wrap Saturday. She told him weeks ago, and he swore to himself he would sleep at his own apartment and fake sick that day. Christmas Amy was cool, but he could imagine that gift wrap Amy was on a whole new level.  
"I did not forget," Jake mumbles.  
"I made pancakes. Big day."  
"What are you talking about?" He sits up suddenly, frowning. She couldn't know about the ring.  
"Gift wrap Saturday!" Amy rolls her eyes.  
"Oh right," Jake runs a hand through his messy hair, "who let you cook?"  
"Hey!" She pokes him hard in the ribs, "I'm great at making pancakes!"  
"I'll be the judge of that."

The pancakes are actually good. A little on the bland side, but Jake slathers them in syrup and butter, which makes Amy wrinkle her nose and mutter about cavities again. When he's finished his second helping of pancakes and third cup of coffee, Amy shoves a list under his nose. It's labelled 'itinerary', which doesn't surprise him as every day of Christmas related shopping had its own itinerary. There were three stores Amy hoped to visit, then lunch at their favourite deli, then back to her place for the start of the wrapping. Jake could not wrap gifts, and he hoped Amy knew this. He wasn't about to tell her. 

The streets are covered in snow slush. It hadn't snowed for two days but it was cold enough that the grey slush hung around and made Jake's socks wet.  
"So do you think a navy blue for the Captain? Or a teal?" Amy muses in shop #1, comparing two colours and tilting her head one way and then the other.  
"I don't know. What colour says 'kiss-ass' the best?"  
"Shut up," Jake's comment earns him a hard punch in the arm. Although she didn't like to admit it, there were a lot of things Amy was bad at. Punching was not one of those things. 

"Do you think my mom would prefer red and gold, or red and silver?" The same head tilting occurs in shop 2, but this time it is accompanied by squinting. Jake thinks it’s cute.  
"Silver? Maybe?" Jake offered up. "So what colour will my gift be wrapped in?" Jake asks. He has been trying to get Amy to tell him what she bought him for weeks, but she doesn’t give in.  
"Much like your gift, that's a surprise," she smirks at him.  
"I don't think you've even got me anything."  
"Damn it, how did you guess?" 

Shop number 3 sells ribbon. Jake doesn’t know why anyone would need a whole shop selling ribbon, but Amy’s in her element and that’s enough for him. Most of the people in the store seem to be women over 60 or soccer moms. Jake passes the time while Amy picks out her acres of ribbon by picking out a person and trying to figure out their life. He gets to a blonde haired woman with three small boys in tow before Amy’s done. She shows him all of her ribbon with a huge smile on her face as they eat lunch. Her favourite is a velvety-purple ribbon, and his is a soft blue one. When they leave the deli it is raining so much Jake thinks it could flood. The grey slush is washed away and the streets are renewed.

"I'm so cold that I think I might have a heart attack," Amy shivers as they walk into her apartment. She dumps the bags on the floor and peels her coat off. Her hair is drenched and sticks to her face, her makeup smudged into oblivion.  
"You look like a damp panda," Jake smiles through the shivering.  
"Uh... Thanks?"  
"You're welcome," Jake peels his own clothes off, dumping them on the ground. Amy frowns at him.  
"Put those in the dryer, do not create a puddle in here!"  
"Yes ma'am."  
"I'm going to get dry clothes." Amy tells him, putting her own clothes in the dryer and marching off to her room. Jake admires her for as she walked away in underwear only.  
Jake rescues the blue ring box from his jeans pocket before putting his clothes in the dryer and turning it on. He takes a sneak peak at the ring, smiling and deciding that if it happened today, it happened, if not, it would happen another day. He hides the box in a cupboard, behind a pack of cookies that Amy bought for him, knowing she wouldn't move the pack any time soon. Then he hides the ring in his fist and goes into her room. 

 

Amy was towel drying her hair, wearing one of his t shirts and a pair of pyjama shorts.  
"Stop stealing my clothes," he joked, walking in and finding another one of his shirts to wear.  
"Finders keepers," Amy shrugged. "Pyjama party."  
"It's two p.m."  
"I don't make the rules."  
"I thought we were gift wrapping?" Jake asked, regretting speaking as soon as he had. Maybe somehow she had forgotten about the gift wrapping.  
"We are, but I'm cold. We can take a break from the schedule," she smiled.  
Jake was surprised, but he wasn't about to argue. He buried himself in her blankets, casually reaching down to slip the ring under the bed a little way. He swallowed, knowing that it would either end up on her finger soon, or he would have to find a way to rescue it and smuggle it from the room.  
"Well, you know I'm a human heater. Warming you up seems to have become my sole purpose," Jake sighed dramatically as Amy joined him under the blankets. Jake pulled her close and Amy twined their fingers together.  
"When I was a kid," Amy began, "I always felt like it was a different world under the covers, you know? Like it was safe."  
"Yeah." Jake agreed, "I built many a pillow fort in my day. The cover- world is the safest of them all. It beats the hell out of laundry-basket-world and closet-world." Amy laughs softly against his skin. "You should ask Gina about our pillow forts. They were pretty legendary in our building."  
"Really?" She asks, a smile in her voice.  
"Oh yeah. I think we could have broken a world record, but Nanna refused to call the assessors out. She didn't really like us building forts. Kept getting mud on her blankets."

The rain patters on outside, a soft melody to their lives. They slip into a calm silence as they warm up, their breathing syncing up. Jake looks down at Amy, at her soft hair, her closed eyes; the panda rings still present, the way she looks in his shirt. He can't bite back the smile. 

"Marry me?"

Two words. And it's a question this time. And the last time that Amy heard those words she wanted to cry and scream no. Those words made her stomach curl uncomfortably last time, made her want to wince. But this time, though she waited for those feelings, they never came. She just opened her heavy eyes and looked up into the earnest face of Jake. Familiar, comforting, dumb Jake. And she loved him. 

"Are you serious?" She asked, just to check.  
"That's not what you're supposed to say," Jake laughed.  
"You really want to marry me?" She studied his face carefully.  
"Of course I do," he assured her.  
"You do?"  
"I do." He smiled. "So what do you say?" His grin was wide and goofy and it made her laugh. It always made her laugh.  
"Yes. Of course." And there were tears in her eyes, but this time they were for all the right reasons. Jake moved back a little and then there was a ring on her finger. It was a little too big, but it was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen because it was hers. She had a future and it was bright. 

5.

They send out cheesy engagement announcements because they figure you (usually) only get engaged once, so why not send out cheesy announcements? They take pictures of them being dumb in Central Park and mail out the announcements on December 22nd. By the 24th their phone and email inboxes are blowing up with excited messages, and Amy has received no less then fourteen phone calls from excited relatives screaming down the phone. But neither of them mind, because their engagement definitely warrants excited screaming. Boyle cries when he finds out, and Holt presents them with a congratulations card. 

They marry in October, the week before Halloween, in an old hotel in New Jersey. Their families and friends attend, and everyone agrees that it is a beautiful service. Boyle cries, and Holt presents them with a six-slice toaster and a set of ceramic coasters. They take two weeks for a honeymoon, and go on a mini road trip in Europe, visiting France, Spain, Germany, Norway and England. 

They move into a bigger apartment together. It has two bedrooms, a coral blue bathroom, and a spectacular view of the city. 

Five months post-marriage and they start trying for a baby. It's not a hard decision, they've both always wanted kids, and Amy has enough nieces and nephews to know that she's good with kids. One day over dinner Jake looks up from his food, smiles at her and suggests they have a kid. His reasoning is solid; they're married, more financially secure than ever, have enough family and friends to help out, and hey, they're both awesome, how great would a mini version of them be? Amy agrees. But life doesn't listen to plans. 

"She's crying again, mom." Jake whispers into the phone. It's been seven months and still no baby.  
"Oh, Jake, I'm sorry. These things take time, sweetie. It'll happen, and if it doesn't, you have other options." His mother reassures him. Jake had told her over two months ago, when Amy had taken to crying in the bathroom every night after dinner. He knew that she wasn't a patient person, and the sound of her crying killed him. He swore that having his heart physically ripped from his body by hand would hurt less.  
"I know. It's just hard."  
"I know it is. But you're both young and healthy! Don't give up, ok? Just tell her it's all going to be ok. It can take years, you know."

"My mom says it can take years to conceive," Jake whispers into Amy's hair late at night as he holds her close. She doesn't like to cry in front of him, or in front of anyone. But she bleeds sadness.  
"I know." Is all Amy replies with.  
"It's going to be ok."  
"Doubt it."  
"I love you."  
"Ok."

It's five weeks later when they get the call. It's a freezing winter morning at four a.m. Jake's phone rings, far too loud against the night time silence. He reaches for it groggily as Amy's sleeping weight shifts next to him.  
"Hello?" He croaks in his sleep ridden voice.  
"Jake. It's Captain Holt." The Captain's deep, steady voice speaks. Jake rubs the sleep from his eyes and tries to get his brain in gear.  
"It's four a.m." Jake groans.  
"There's been a major incident. I need the two of you to come in as soon as possible." Jake is too tired to understand properly, but he agrees and hangs up the phone, too sleep addled to ask for more information.  
"Amy. We have to go to work." He nudges her. He knows she's a morning person, but four a.m is too early even for her.  
"It's the middle of the night." She groans.  
"I know. Major incident." 

They dress quickly in yesterday's clothing. He runs his hair under the shower, she brushes hers and ties it carefully back into a ponytail. He puts two pop tarts into the toaster, she puts coffee into a thermos. He hunts for his shoes, she puts on some make up. They're out the door ten minutes after Jake hung up the phone. 

The precinct is alive when they arrive, a little more awake than they had been on leaving their apartment. Everyone is in the briefing room already; Boyle is gulping down coffee from a mug, Rosa is attempting to keep her eyes open with great difficulty, Terry and Holt are standing at the front of the room with grave expressions on their faces. Hitchcock has his shirt on backwards and Scully's eyes are completely glazed over, his mouth hanging open.  
"What's going on?" Jake asks as they enter the room.  
"Good you're here, sit down." Holt nods at the chairs.  
"Are we late?" Amy asks.  
"Relax, we only just got here," Rosa says, "you're not gonna get a detention."

There was a shooting. In the early hours of the morning a man believed to be Jason Milo had broken into the man believed to be his brother, Christopher's, house. Christopher was a single father after having lost his wife eighteen months earlier to cancer. He had two daughters named Hanna and Lia, aged seven and ten. That morning, Jason Milo had shot Christopher, his neighbour, and his family dead. After killing them, he had subsequently shot himself in the head and died. At least, that was what as presumed to have happened. There was one surviving member of Christopher's family. His only son, Oscar, had survived by hiding in his toy chest when he heard the sounds of gunfire. Oscar had heard everything, and was the only witness. He was the only one who could confirm that it was his dead uncle who had carried out the crime and not someone else. Unfortunately, Oscar was four years old, and too terrified to speak. 

"Amy, Rosa, Boyle. We want you on the scene. Jake. We want you to talk to the kid." Terry told them. Jake's eyes widened.  
"Why do you want me to do it?" He asked, standing up as Amy, Rosa and Boyle left the room. Scully and Hitchcock returned to their desks.  
"We feel like you're best for the job, Peralta," Holt told Jake. "Can you do it?"  
"Yeah. Sure I can." Jake nodded. But truthfully, the thought of questioning the kid was daunting. That kid had lost everything, and now he was going to be questioned about who caused that loss. He had already lost his mother, now his father and his two big sisters were gone too. It disgusted Jake that the world was so screwed up. But he was a detective, and that wasn't always easy. 

Oscar was small for four. He had olive skin and black hair and wore dinosaurs pyjamas. He had huge brown eyes and skinny arms and Jake wanted to punch something. He wanted to bring Jason Milo back to life and kill him all over again for hurting this kid. Oscar sat in Holt's office with a blank expression on his face. To his left was a middle aged woman from child services, and to his right sat a lawyer. Both looked exhausted, and like they would rather be anywhere but there, like they couldn't care less about Oscar, about the fact that his whole family had been ripped from him. Jake allows himself five seconds to stand in the doorway of the office and to look at the lost little boy who's life has changed forever, and then he enters and begins one of the hardest interviews he has carried out to date. 

"Hey buddy," Jake begins, his voice quiet and gentle. The social worker and lawyer look up and acknowledge Jake.  
"Hi, I'm Meredith Jackson and I'll be representing Oscar today." The blonde haired lawyer stands up and shakes Jake's hand. "I specialise in cases involving children under the age of ten," she explains.  
"I'm Lori Stephenson; social worker." The greying woman shakes his hand next.  
"Jake Peralta, detective. I'll be doing the interview." Jake explains next. He doesn't like that they are talking about Oscar as if he's not in the room. "You must be Oscar." Jake sits down and holds his hand out to Oscar, who stares at it with those wide brown eyes. He puts his hand down. "I just need to ask you some questions." Jake speaks carefully. He's not going to baby Oscar, or to patronise him. The kid lost everything; he deserves to hear the truth about that. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but I just want to know what happened. We can stop the interview at any time, you just have to ask." Jake starts the tape recorder and begins to conduct the interview. 

"It's disgusting." Amy tells Jake. He calls her when he gets out of the interview, just needing to hear her voice. "How can a person kill a kid."  
"I just don't know," Jake sighs, "people like that are pure evil."  
"Yeah you're telling me. How was the interview?" Amy asks.  
"Horrible. Kid didn't say a thing, but by the end of it he was shaking so hard I thought he might make a hole in the ground." Jake rubs his forehead, wishing for a world in which people's families weren't ripped away from them.  
"I'm sorry," Amy tells him softly. "What's going to happen to him now?"  
"I don't know. He probably has family somewhere and he'll go live with them."  
"Hope so." 

The conversation about Oscar creates a heavy weight on Jake's shoulders as he reports to Captain Holt about the interview. His mind is only half in the room. The other half is looking into the office where Gina is writing down Oscar's details so he can be contacted in the future. When Gina leaves the room, he watches as the social worker gathers her things and helps Oscar up. They are leaving. Jake can't let him leave without knowing he's going to be ok.  
"Hey, Oscar." Jake intercepts them in the doorway of the office. Oscar looks up at him with those brown eyes, those lost and desperate and pleading brown eyes. "You did a good job today buddy. I want you to have this." It's a plastic police hat left over from Halloween. Jake puts it on Oscar's head and watches as his eyes wide even further. It swamps him, almost covering his eyes up. Jake pats Oscar's shoulder and suddenly the small boy's tiny hand is on his. It's icy cold and soft, squeezing Jake's hard. His eyes says help. "What's gonna happen to him?" Jake asks Lori suddenly, needing to know more than anything.  
Lori looks at Oscar as if she doesn't want to talk about it in front of him. Jake thinks it's stupid because Oscar deserves to know what's going to happen in his own life.  
"Go and wait in the office, Oscar." Lori tells him, gently pushing him back in. Oscar's hand slips from Jake's own. "Normally, in a situation like this," Lori tells him in hushed tones as Oscar sits behind the desk again, head bowed, hat still in place. "We find the next of kin, and providing they prove a capable guardian, the child is placed with them. Oscar has several surviving family members. Unfortunately, only one has been deemed a possibility; his aunt in Mexico. We haven't been able to get in contact with her yet, and truthfully we don't even know if she's going to be able to care for him. We know very little about her so it's going to be a long process. Until then, at least, Oscar will be placed in foster care." And that's exactly what Jake didn't want to hear.  
"That's bullshit!" Jake raises his voice. He doesn't know why he's being so defensive of this kid.  
"Unfortunately we have no other alternative, Detective."  
"Well then I'll look after him." Jake doesn't know what possesses him to say that. He realises he shouldn't have said it as soon as he does, but he doesn't take the words back.  
"What?" Lori frowns.  
"Yeah. Me and my wife want to have a kid. Let us take Oscar, at least until you get in contact with his aunt. Look, we're detectives, neither of us have a criminal record, we're trustworthy. We have a spare room." It's all taking shape in Jake's mind as the words fall out of his mouth. Oscar's eyes were pleading for help, and Jake is going to offer that.  
"This isn't something we would usually consider." The social worker folds her arms.  
"Yeah but is this your usual kind of case? Look, go and talk to the lawyer, talk to my Captain." Lori stares him down. "Please. This kid deserves better than some random foster family." Finally Lori sighs and walks away, towards the blonde haired lawyer. Jake slips off his police issue jacket and places it around Oscar's shivering shoulders. 

The one thing Jake had yet to do was ask Amy. He was sure she'd be onboard, but that didn't stop him from pacing around the bullpen until she arrived back twenty minutes later.  
"Hey!" He smiled his goofiest smile as she walked in.  
"What did you do?" She frowns at him. She looks so tired.  
"Nothing!" He doesn't know how to tell her. "How was the scene?"  
"Not fun," Amy shakes her head "I feel like someone should be arrested because of this. Instead he's probably dead. Took the cowards way out." Her face is a picture of disgust. Jake puts his hands on her shoulders and rubs calming circles.  
"I spoke to Oscar's social worker, about what's going to happen to him." Jake says slowly.  
"What did she say?" Amy asks, sadness in her voice.  
"He has an aunt, but they can't get in contact with her. And they don't even know if she's suitable yet." He shrugs. He looks into her pretty eyes, a similar shade to Oscar's, and then takes a deep breath, "we could take care of him. For a couple of nights I mean?" He speaks fast, ripping the band aid off.  
"What?" She steps away from him. His hands drop to his sides.  
"It doesn't seem fair that he's been through all this crap and then he has to go to some foster home where he doesn't know anyone. He won't even feel safe, I bet." Still speaking fast. Amy studies him to see if he's joking. He is reminded of the day he proposed to him. This is scarier.  
"Would they even allow that? We aren't foster carers or anything."  
"Well I already spoke to the social worker about that." Jake treads carefully.  
"You spoke to them without asking me?" Oh shit. Jake swallows hard.  
"I just wanted to know if it was a possibility." Amy frowns. Jake waits.  
"What did they say?" She asks. He breathes a sigh of relief.  
"Providing our background checks check out, and they go to our apartment to check it's child-safe, we can take care of him temporarily." Jake can't stop the smile from appearing on his face. He's not sure why this kid is so important to him. But he's sure Oscar would prefer to go home with someone he's already met, rather than having to meet more new people. Jake thinks Oscar might kind of trust him. He remembers Oscar's tiny fingers on his own, his scared eyes.  
"Ok," Amy nods slowly.  
"Ok?" Jake isn't sure he heard her right.  
"Yeah. I mean he can come back with us, we can take care of him for a few days. It will be good practice I guess," she shrugs. Jake hugs her tight and tells her he loves her six times. 

Their background checks are fine, as Jake knew they would be, and they wait at the station filling out paperwork as Lori sends another social worker to their apartment with their key. Jake thanks God that Amy is so clean and tidy. She worries because they haven't washed their glasses from the night before but he assures her it will be fine. Amy meets Oscar, and offers her a tiny smile when they tell him he's coming home with them. Jake knows he's made the right decision then. 

They leave the precinct at eight-forty-five, hours after first arriving, and everything is different now. The city is alive with morning commuters, parents taking their kids to school, dog walkers. Oscar walks to Jake's car in the middle of them, holding onto both of their hands. His eyes flit around nervously, but Jake promises him he is safe now. Amy tells him his police hat makes him an honorary cop, and that means he's safe, no one will mess with him now. They strap him into the back seat and turn the heat up high for the shivering child. He still hasn't said a word. 

Oscar likes Jake's massage chair. He only has one now, and Oscar has taken residence in it. Amy finds some clothes one of her nephews left behind from his list visit. He is six, and his green t shirt and blue pyjama pants are too big for Oscar, but they're better than the grubby dinosaur pyjamas, which Amy puts in to wash. Oscar refuses to take the police hat and jacket off for longer than the time it takes to change, but Jake and Amy don't even try and take them away. They find a warm blanket that Amy's mom crocheted and throw it over Oscar. At some point they realise he must be starving and thirsty, so Jake offers him hot chocolate and he nods vigorously. Jake smiles because Oscar's big brown eyes are less terrified now. Amy makes him a cheese sandwich, which he eats quickly, eyes still darting around suspiciously. After a while Oscar's eyes begin to droop and he stops fighting sleep, curling up in a ball on the chair and losing consciousness. They consider moving him into the big bed in the guest room, but they think he might worry if he wakes up in a place he's never been before. Amy calls her mom, and then she falls asleep too, in their room under the warm blankets. 

When she wakes up, her first emotion is disorientation. She can hear rain pattering on the window again. She's sick of rain. She wonders why she's still dressed in her work clothes. She knows they're going to be creased as hell. She rubs her eyes and looks at the alarm clock next to her. And she has no idea why she's waking up in her work clothes at three p.m. And then she sits up and remembers. 

She doesn't want to remember everything. Sure, she's a cop, she sees shit that other people would have nightmares about. She can handle that. She can handle examining scenes where there are bodies in the middle of the room; teenagers who have overdosed, young women who have been stabbed to death, overweight men with gunshot wounds to the chest. But something about seeing those little girls lying dead in the house stuck with her, made her want to scream and sob. The smallest girl was still clutching a doll to her chest, in fairy pyjamas. She could have been sleeping but for the four gunshot wounds to her body and the glassy stare of her dark eyes. But her brother survived, and now it was up to Amy to take care of him. Amy and Jake and a screwed up kid. Who'd have thought it. She figured Jake had it under control because she couldn't hear much, so she changed into more comfortable clothing and brushed her hair out. Then she smiled at herself in the mirror and told herself that whatever it took, she would make this kid happy, even if it could only be for a minute. 

Jake had that covered. Amy walked out of the bedroom expecting to see Oscar asleep or something, but instead she found a pillow fort. Suddenly she remembered their conversation all that time ago on the day that Jake asked her to marry him. Pillow forts were a safe place, no one could dispute that. This one involved the couch cushions, the pillows from the guest room, the couch throw, and some other blankets. Amy smiled at the fort in the middle of the messy living room, quietly laughing to herself at the giggles that emanated from it. Yeah, Jake had it covered. 

"What are you doing?" Amy asked, laughing, pulling aside one of the blankets to enter the fort.  
"Oh, look who finally decided to wake up," Jake grinned at her. Oscar was sitting on a cushion, working his way through a pack of chocolate chip cookies, laughing.  
"Hi," Oscar smiled through his mouthful of cookie. Amy almost fell backwards. He was speaking.  
"Hey!" Amy was smiling so much her cheeks ached.  
"Someone's on a sugar high," Jake stage whispered to her. Oscar giggled some more. Amy was amazed. Kids were resilient creatures.  
"We're telling stories." Oscar tells her in his small voice.  
"And it's your turn!" Jake smiles at Amy like she's won a grand prize.  
"Uh... What kind of stories?" She asks, stalling.  
"Any kind. Oscar's not picky, are you?" Jake nods at him. Oscar shakes his head.  
"Ok... Let me think." She stops for a second, helping herself to one of Oscar's cookies from his stash. And then it comes to her. The best story she knows. The one that she wakes up in the night and repeats to herself, checking that it's true, that this is real. Because things are tough, but she's lucky. They will always have each other. "Once upon a time, there were two cops in New York City. One of them was a super pretty girl who was really good at her job. The other was a boy who didn't like to wear ties, and always got in trouble..."

Oscar’s aunt never calls back.


End file.
